Scars
by Black Knight 03
Summary: Lavender is struggling to deal with effects of Greyback's attack, and is becoming a shadow of her former self. Eventually ending up at 12 Grimmauld Place, she finds out that she isn't the only one with scars and some run deeper. One-shot Lavender-Harry


Disclaimer - J. K. Rowling owns Harry Potter

A/N - Written for the 4th Round of hp tarot on LJ. Thanks to my beta, phil urich for the editing.

Card Interpretation - The Four of Swords represents an inner retreat that you are currently taking. Your present situation is very difficult and you may be in the midst of much turmoil. A temporary truce seems to be in place, and you are now seeking recuperation within. The swords on the wall symbolize your previous battles, and the sword at your side represents your current conflict. You will soon take up the sword again. The battle isn't over, but when you return to it, you'll be invigorated and able to formulate a mature, effective response.

As Lavender sat curled up in the worn out armchair, she gingerly ran her fingers along the bandage that was pressed to the side of her neck. Beneath it a deep scar ran from just below her ear, down her throat and across her shoulder. _Why couldn't Hermione have just let that bastard finish the job?_ she thought as she resisted the urge to tear the bandage off. Madam Pomfrey had been able to save her, but because of the nature of her attacker, the wounds were cursed. It was only because Greyback wanted to kill her, not turn her, that she only developed a few Werewolf like tendencies instead of becoming one.

The summer after the final battle Bill Weasley had taken her in; his wife and him trying to help her adjust. It had not gone well, and Lavender spent most of her time outside on the dunes watching the sea churn at Shell Cottage. Between the survivor guilt and the changes her body was forced to endure, she just wanted to be left alone. The nightmares did not help either; when she closed her eyes she could still feel his breath upon her neck, the stench that overpowered her as he preyed on her. With those images plaguing her, she barely slept or ate since that horrific night.

_Then he came,_ and looking across the room, she watched a sleeping Harry sprawled across the nearby couch. Not only could she see him breathing by the gentle rise and fall of his chest, but with her now sensitive senses she could hear him as clearly as if she was next to him.

With things deteriorating at Shell Cottage for her, Harry had offered her a place to stay. Some place quiet and out of the way of preying eyes, a secluded haven, where she could recuperate. She did not really want to go; the only place she wanted to go was home and hide in her old room until the end of her days. Then it happened.

When he had first suggested her staying at 12 Grimmauld Place, she had not reacted well, becoming angry and aggressive. It was how she had been dealing with everything lately, but she remembered being a real git with Harry. After saying a lot of things that were uncalled for, and in hindsight really regretting them, she had grown so frustrated that she had taken a swing at him. Of course never having done anything like that before, it was a disaster. Swinging wildly, she missed completely and stumbled to the edge of the dune. Looking down as she tried to regain her balance to back away, for just a moment she considered just falling forward and down the steep drop off. But then a firm hand grabbed her arm and yanked her hard backwards.

Twirling around, she slammed in to Harry with her face buried in to his chest. As he held her for a moment, her head began to spin as all of her senses were overwhelmed. Inhaling deeply, she felt something stir inside her as she really took in the scent of Harry for the first time. All kinds of scents had been all around her, she had even been able to identify some of them, but this was different. It scared her. Luckily Bill had interrupted the moment before she did something rash.

She had lamely said that she was only agreeing to go with Harry to London because Fleur was pregnant. At the very least she had wanted it to appear as if it was her decision to go.

As she continued to watch Harry sleep, she felt the familiar feelings build up inside her. Quickly grabbing the notebook and quill from the small table next to her, she quickly began scribbling anything that came to her mind in effort to ignore what was bubbling inside her. Bill had suggested that she continue to keep a diary, a place to try and get out some of the things she could not verbalize yet. But after a few minutes of writing about being cooped up inside, a mention of green grass had somehow turned in to a half a page dribble about Harry's eyes.

Snapping the book shut and tossing it aside with the quill, she pulled her legs to her and rested her forehead against her knees. _Make it stop! I just want to be normal again!_

Hugging her arms around her knees, she squeezed her eyes tightly shut as she tried not to cry. _I'll be alone for the rest of my life because of these damn scars ._ She felt tainted, and that by cheating death, she had been cursed for it. Reaching up, she dug her fingernails underneath the bandage and fought with herself. _Tear it off, and rip open the scar. I've done it before._

Lavender remembered the last time she had torn open the scar; blood was everywhere and it had scared her. If it had not been for Parvati, she would probably have bled to death before Madam Pomfrey had been alerted. _They say they're my friends, but where are they now! All living their perfectly normal lives while I'm stuck in this hell!_

A sudden gasp from the couch made Lavender's head snap up. She watched as Harry flailed for a moment before stumbling to his feet. She could see his eyes were wide open but his vision didn't seem to be quiet there. He appeared to be awake, but not completely aware of where he was.

"Accio wand! Accio wand, damnit!" he shouted. "Wand! Where's my wand?"

Before she realized that she had even moved, Lavender sprang to her feet and quickly grabbed Harry's shoulders. "Harry! Harry!" she screamed at him. She could feel how tense he was, and for a brief moment was not at all worried about herself. "Harry!" She finally felt him start to calm down, but could almost hear his pulse racing. "Are you alright?"

Rubbing a hand over his face, he just waved her off as he stumbled back to the couch. "Yeah, yeah. Just a stupid dream."

Watching him, she suddenly realized something. _Maybe the deepest scars are the ones you can't see._ She had been so focused on her physical scars, that she had not even thought of the psychological ones. The things that Bill had been trying to talk to her about, teach her, made a little more sense.

After Harry had collapsed down on the couch, leaning his head back as he let out a ragged breath, she slowly walked over and stood before the couch. Gazing down at him, she looked at the visible scars on Harry's body. Giving only a brief glance at the famous one on his forehead, she noted the small cuts on his shoulder just below his neck, the faded words on his forehand and the jagged white mark on his forearm.

Lavender stood over Harry for a moment, simply watching him. _All the color is gone from his face, and he's sweating. Are these the nightmares Hermione was talking about?_

As his hand slid away from his face, she found him staring back up at her. "What?"

"I... it's just... I... nothing, sorry," Lavender babbled, feeling her face flush and for the first time acting almost like her old self. Problem was it was her old self when she fancied a bloke. It usually started with her babbling and giggling like an idiot, and she'd become a love sick fool with that person dominating her thoughts and actions at the expense of everything else. She'd become almost singled minded about that person. But what was worse was that she would quickly become insecure, her mind creating all these fears and doubts. While he wasn't completely blameless, Lavender realized that she had been clingy, obsessive, and everything she hated during the time she dated Ron. Never wanting to go through that again, she quickly shut down any possible thought of anything other than friendship with Harry.

"How do you deal with the nightmares?"

He smirked and shrugged. "They've been there my whole life. I guess I've just gotten use to waking up in a panic."

Sitting down next to him, "Even when you were younger?"

Harry nodded. "Some say dreams are a place to escape, mine were always terrifying. When I was younger, before Hogwarts, I didn't even understand a lot of it. It takes some time, but you learn to not be afraid of them as much, I guess." He then chuckled softly, "Then again, every once in awhile they still put you flat on your back."

"I... I can still hear him when I close my eyes," Lavender said softly. She jerked slightly when she felt Harry's fingers brush her hand, but when he started to pull away she turned her palm up and quickly gripped his hand.

"We want to help Lavender, but you've got to let us," Harry told her. "You've shut them out so much, that they figure the best way to help you is to wait for you to come to them. You don't have to let them all the way in, least right now, but crack the door a bit."

"How do you know so much?" Lavender asked cautiously, knowing what he was saying was the truth.

"Not everyone has a friend like Hermione," he answered. "Not everyone is going to bust down the door and take no prisoners," and he smiled when Lavender finally did laugh. "I figured you needed someone to kick down your door too."

Sighing softly, she felt a bit lighter. It was hard to explain but just talking a little bit to Harry just now took some of the gloom off her edges. She was about to say something when she heard Harry wince softly and he withdrew his hand. Holding his forehead, Lavender grew concerned.

"It's nothing. I may have gotten the bastard out of my head, but I still get the headaches."

Getting an idea, Lavender shifted over towards her end of the couch. "Lie down."

"Uh? I'm fine, it's just a little pain."

Taking his arm, Lavender tugged on it. "Lie down, and put your head in my lap."

She would never forget the look on his face, so many different emotions made for quite the expression. But even reluctantly, he did as she requested. "What are you going to do?"

"Something I learned in Divination." She grinned a little as she fought with Harry to remain laid down. "Not everything in Divination is crystal ball, tea leaves, and Grims," she teased. As she pressed Harry's shoulders back down, she was confused and happy in a way that bits and pieces of the old her were beginning to reappear.

"Relax, close your eyes, and breathe deeply," she told him. When he looked up at her warily, "I promise this will help. Relax, eyes closed, and breathe deeply."

It took him a few moments, but finally his eyes shut and his breathing slowed though he wouldn't relax for the life of him. Shaking her head, she gently placed her fingers tips at precise points on his forehead and whispered, "_Otium._" She felt him stiffen for a moment, but then slowly he finally did relax and even drifted off back to sleep.

Looking down at his head in her lap, she let her fingers linger a bit on his face. Taking a deep breath, the only thing she could smell was Harry, but this time she tried not to panic. It was beginning to be comforting in a way she could not explain.

Gazing at his face, aside from the most obvious lightning scar, she could see all the smaller nicks and cuts that had been healed over the years. She rolled her eyes at her foolishness, _Always the hopeless romantic._


End file.
